Rebound 2: Lies
by GoldenHairedKiller
Summary: Sequel to Rebound. Elizabeth is now fifteen and enjoying her life. Edward and Bella have not told her of her mother's past. Needless to say, she finds out. While running away, she meets Seth, a boy who wants to help. She falls in love, of course.
1. Such Is Life

**Hello there! Welcome to the not-so-long awaited sequel of Rebound, entitled **_**Lies**_**. In this story I'll most likely be switching character perspective from time to time, but for the most part it will be from Elizabeth's P.O.V. **

**Enjoy, and do let me know what you think! **

According to the general consensus, my life couldn't be better. And I guess it can't. I go to the top school in the country, I live in a large house, with possibly the best parents in the world. I have awesome friends, boys and girls. I get good grades, I can sing, have a certain ear for music. I guess you could say I'm one of the lucky ones.

My parents are awesome. Everyone says they're particularly attractive, especially for thirty-five year-olds. They're American, they used to live in L.A. They didn't like it, so they moved here when I was a baby. They're American accents had an effect on me when I was growing up, but the Australian accents had an effect on me too. I sort of have a mix of both. My mum always sang to me as a baby, and she still sings around the house all the time. The best part is that she actually can sing, and quite well. I don't know why she never made a career out of it… she has perfect pitch (which apparently I inherited).

Anyways, I'm pretty happy with my life.

"Elizabeth, please stop daydreaming and pay attention," Miss Sheppard say to me, waking me from my thinking. I hear giggles from across the classroom. It was two of the unpopular girls, trying to make fun of me and gain a bit of respect. No one else laughed. The two girls look at me, and I smile with fake sweetness.

Yes, sometimes I can be a bit of a bitch, but that comes with being popular. Most of the time I'm pretty nice. But some people just get under my skin. I can't be nice all the time.

"Now that you're paying attention again, Elizabeth, would you mind telling me how long a dotted minim is held for?" the teacher asks me. Miss Sheppard, the music teacher, is not the nicest teacher in the world, but better than some. I find music quite easy, and therefore boring, so she takes every opportunity to pick on me with questions I knew the answer to when I was in grade 2.

"3 crotchet beats. And it's Liz," I tell her for the fourth time this week. She always seems to forget that I prefer the three letter version of my name. Or she chooses to ignore me.

I asked my dad why I was named Elizabeth once, and he said that it was his mother's name. His dad's was Edward, hence his name. My mum's name however was inspired from a cereal box. Fancy. My grandma is all class. Although apparently better than she used to be, which I find hard to believe.

"That's right…" she sighs, disappointed. She hopes that one say I will get an answer wrong. Not bloody likely.

Thankfully, the bell rings for the start of lunch. My friend Justin nudges me and smiles. I smile back, knowing what he's referring to. He nudges me every time I outsmart a teacher. Which is quite often. Mum says that I'm too smart for my own good, just like my father. I rolled my eyes when she said that, because she went into one of those fantasies she has about him. I gag every time she makes a gooey face at him. They just laugh.

Justin follows me to my locker, staying close to me. Most boys I'm friends with do that. I don't know why. My friend Elena has a theory about that. She thinks it's because they all want to be my guy best friend or something, so if I have a mental breakdown then they'll be the one I'll go to and such like. She went on to say that it was also because I'm unbelievably gorgeous, which I immediately denied.

As I put my books in my locker, Justin is talking to me about a gig his band is playing. I try to listen, but my mind is on other things. Mostly about the dresses I'm going to buy when I go shopping with Kirsten tonight.

"So, are you going to go?" he asks me. He gives a flirty smile I know all too well.

"Oh, um… when is it? And where?" I ask apologetically, hoping he isn't repeating himself.

"Saturday, around 9, at the Espy? It's an underage gig," he says with that same smile. Oh dear. He's just sort of kind of asked me out. Again. Poor boy. Surely he should know after three rejections that I don't want to be with him…

"Oh, um… I better ask the rents first, so they don't freak out, you know?" I smile a half hearted smile. He smiles back, understanding.

"Let me know," he says, walking away.

Oh now I feel bad. I hate lying to people. Especially one of my friends. Dad says I get that from my mother.

Dad told me how Mum lied to him about being pregnant with me, for fear that he might be angry. I asked Mum, and she said she was terrified that he would leave her. But when she did tell him, he was overjoyed. Then she mumbled something about someone called 'Steve' and walked away. I was a little confused by that, but I didn't press it.

I walk to the canteen through the locker bay, getting waves and 'hi's from almost everyone. Kirsten runs up to me, screaming my name.

"Liz, Liz, Liz, Liz!" People are staring but the ones who know us just laugh. She gives me a bear hug, almost knocking me over.

"Hello there," I say, giggling.

"Hey!" she says, puffing.

"What's up?" I ask indifferently.

"Not much!" she says loudly, still bouncing.

"What's with the over-energetic-ness?" I ask with one eyebrow raised.

"I had coffeeeeeeeeeeee!" she giggles profusely. Oh. Kirsten on coffee is like a hummingbird on speed. Totally uncontrollable. She was a ball of energy when she _hasn't_ had coffee. I try to keep the stuff away from her. Along with red cordial. I roll my eyes at her.

"So, we still good for shopping tonight?" she asks me.

"Definitely. What do you have in last period?"

"Science. You?"

"Maths. I'll meet you out the front, near the lions?" I say. The lion is our school's emblem, and it's absolutely everywhere. We have lion statues out the front of the school. It's ridiculous. Not to mention out uniform is purple. _Everything_ is purple. After one year in this school, you absolutely detest purple, even if you loved it before.

"Sure! Now, let's get something to eat, I'm starving!" she almost yells.

"Okay, okay. Calm your farm."

We walk to the canteen in the middle school. Middle school is technically grades 5 to 9. But really it's 7 to 9, as the 5's and 6's are in a different area. During lunch, the canteen, otherwise known as the tuck shop is completely full and chaotic. The smart ones bring their lunch to school. But of course, I'm not smart like that, and mum can't be bothered making my lunch. Kirsten sighs at the crowd. Some year 8 girls push in front of us, to which we push back. No year 8 girl is going to push in front of us, we're older. It's just the way it works. Eventually we get to the front of the line. Kirsten gets a hotdog. I get a falafel wrap. They're quite nice really.

I followed my mother in her vegetarianism. She didn't force me into it, she let me make the choice. I can't thank her enough for that. But I did decide to go vego. Dad is practically vego. He eats whatever Mum cooks, but when we go out he orders meat. I can't express how much Dad would do for Mum.

We get out of the crowd and sit on the grass in the sun. I stretch out my tanned legs and eat my wrap. I couple of guys stare. I see Kate and Tanya, the twins, come towards us. They sit down across from us and talk to Kirsten for a bit. I'm not really paying attention, I'm just enjoying the sunshine. It's a nice 28 degrees. Not to hot, not too cold. Perfect.

"Oh my god, Liz. I'm so jealous of your legs!" Kate exclaims, looking at them in the sun. I smile. I love them too. Another trait I was lucky enough to pick up from my mother.

"I'll say," another voice say, form behind. It's Brody, my ex. We're still kind of friends, but often it's pretty awkward. This is one of those times. I stare at him, half smiling. He gets the hint and walks away.

"He's so creepy, why would you ever date him?" Tanya asks me, disgusted.

"Well, he _was_ nice. Really nice. And I saw no problem with it, until I found out what he was really going out with me for." Brody only went out with me to get in my pants. Enough said.

"Yeah, but…" Tanya trails off, failing to think of something else to say. I smile. Ah, Tanya. The dumber of the two twins. But a bundle of laughs. Don't know what I'd do without her. She can make me smile on my worst days. Kate, her identical twin sister is really nice, and pretty smart. She's the one you go to with all your problems, and she'll give the best advice. Her and her sister are really close, they do everything together. Their other sister, Irene, is in the senior school, and the twins aren't as close to her.

"Dude, here comes James…" Esme mentions. Uh oh. With James it's really awkward. Because Kirsten likes him, a lot, but James likes me. And I like kittens. So you can imagine the situation when we're all sitting on the grass.

"Hey guys. Sup?" he asks in his American accent. That's one thing James and I have in common. We're both from America, except he came to Australia much later in his life. He joined us in year 7.

"Not much," says everyone in a general murmur.

"Watch out for Kirsten, she's had coffee…" I warn him.

"Uh oh," he says teasingly, to which Kirsten pokes out her tongue at. He laughs. Through my peripheral vision I see him subtly move closer to me. Sigh. Why me? Like Kirsten back for heaven's sake. It would make everything a _lot_ easier.

"So uh… you doing anything tonight?" James asks me quietly while the others are talking about shoes.

"Yeah actually. I'm going shopping with Kirsty," I say, thankful that I'm actually doing something and I don't have to lie like I did to Justin.

"Oh… well, if you want to see a movie on Saturday or something, after sport, I'm here," he says with a smile. "As a friend, if you want," he adds. I smile back at that.

"Thanks."

Time passes quickly, unfortunately. The bell goes, and we all go separate ways to our classes. I have English, then Maths. Possibly the worst combination. I don't mind the subjects so much, just the teachers. Mr Stewart and Mrs Jin are possibly the worst teachers in the school. And I have the luck of having both of them. Ugh.

I walk slowly to English, not in any hurry at all. When I get there, I see the door closed. Dang. Mr Stewart closes the door right on 1:35. If you're late, you knock, and if he's in a good mood, he _might_ open the door. I knock a few times on the door. The door opens, to my relief. But I don't see Stewie (our nickname for him, which he hates). I see Ms Davie, the _nicest_ teacher in the school.

"Come on in Liz," she says warmly. Yay. I might actually pay attention today.

I get good marks in every subject, despite my lack of concentration in some of them. Guess I'm just naturally smart. Either way, my parents are always happy with my results, which is what I care about.

I space out halfway, while she was going on about Shakespeare. Elena nudges me when it's time to go to maths. I stretch out my arms sleepily. Someone pokes my in the stomach. I lurch and giggle a little. I look up to see Justin smiling at me. I grin, then poke my tongue out at him. Maths time.

Never really liked maths. I mean, it's not like I'm bad at it, I just don't particularly like it. Not to mention the teacher's awful. I spend most of the lesson teaching other people.

"Now, 2 is a common factor, so you take that out the front… then you factorise it like you normally would," I explain to Liam.

"Oooooooooh. I get it!" I sigh. About time. "I swear she didn't teach us that."

"She didn't," I say, annoyed. I honestly do not know how Ms. Jin got her DipEd. A one-eyed cat could teach better than her.

"Hey Liz…" Elena says, indicating that she needs help. I never get any work done in maths.

"Yes…" I say in a similar manner.

"What do you do here?" she asks me, pointing to a question.

"Why are you talking?" Ms. Jin asks us in her nasally voice.

"Because I'm explaining something to her," I answer truthfully.

"Well, she should understand. I mean, she would, if she'd been paying attention," she bellows at Elena. Ok, that is _it_.

"Ok, look. She _was_ paying attention. I'm pretty sure we _all_ were. And we still don't get it. Now either we're all incredibly stupid, or you're a crap teacher. I'm opting for the latter. I'm explaining a certain question to her because you didn't teach us how to do it. And I've got the notes to prove it. Or, lack thereof, I should say. So don't you dare tell us off for not understanding, because that's _your_ fault, not ours."

Ms. Jin looks at me in shock. Her mouth is gaping open, moving a little, like she wants to say something, but she can't find the words. Everyone else is smirking, because I'd finally said what they'd all been thinking. It feels good. But I know that I'm not getting out of it without some form of punishment. Finally Ms. Jin speaks.

"Miss Eva's office. Now."

I roll my eyes. Miss Eva is no threat. Apart from Ms. Davie, she's the nicest teacher I know. She's the year 9 cluster leader, or the year 9 coordinator. She's practically friends with all the year 9 kids. She'll probably agree with me about what I said to Ms. Jin.

I walk out of the room, everyone watching me as I go. But in a good way. Like they shared my annoyance about being punished. I walk through the hall and down the stairs, and see her in her office. I knock on the door, and she greets me with a smile. I could lie about what I said, but what's the point? She'll find out anyhow. It'll be all over the school by the 3:30 bell.

"Hello there Liz. To what do I owe the pleasure?" she asks me with a smile.

"Ms. Jin sent me…" I mention.

"Oh… why?" she asks, with a raised eyebrow.

"Well… kind of, sort of, insulted her teaching ability…" I mumble, as if embarrassed.

"Oh. Well, tell me about it," she says, almost like a counsellor.

"Well, I was helping Elena with a question, which I always do, because none of the people in the class get it. Not because they're stupid, but because there are things in the questions she assigns us that she doesn't teach. So I was helping her, and she asks me why we're talking, and I told her the truth. Then she said that it was Elena's fault for not getting it because she wasn't paying attention. So I told what we were all thinking. That it was her fault we don't get it, because she can't teach, not that we weren't paying attention." I shrug. She nods in understanding.

"Well Liz, you were probably wrong in telling her that, but right in what you were saying. I've heard that complaint from many different students. Many…" she says to me. Good old Miss Eva. Knew she'd understand.

"Gonna have to punish you though, sorry," she says apologetically.

"Nah, it's ok, I'm used to it," I say with a roll of my eyes.

"Friday det?" she asks casually. 'Det' was the shortened version of detention. After a while you learn that Australians shorten pretty much everything.

"Yeah, ok. I might get some homework done or something…"

She smiles and nods. The school bell goes right at that moment. Awesome. Good thing I brought my books.

I walk out of her office, and am greeted by my friends.

"Can't believe you got in trouble for that," Liam almost yells.

"Yeah, it was all true," Elena agrees.

"Meh. I probably shouldn't have said it, as true as it may have been."

"What about this one?"

"I dunno. The colours don't really suit you…"

Dress shopping is fun, because you get to really think about how they look on you, and not worry about anything else. However Kirsten always manages to find something else to talk about.

"So… do you like anyone?" she asks casually, trying to hide her burning curiosity.

"Nah. It's awkward though, about five guys like me and I don't like any of them back," I moan.

"I know. And about 20 more flirt with you daily. It's hard to watch sometimes."

"Why me?" I ask myself. Kirsty answers for me.

"Because you're insanely beautiful, smart, funny, an amazing singer. What's not to love? You're the perfect girl. And I'm pretty sure you can thank your parents for that. How many guys have said to you that, even at 30 something, your mum is outrageously gorgeous?"

"More like MILF, but yes, quite a few," I giggle.

"Oh. My. God, it's gorgeous!" she squeals, looking at a dress. She grabs it and goes into the change room. Suddenly, my phone buzzes and plays my ringtone (_Firework_, by the almighty Katy Perry). I answer as soon as I see the name.

"Liz?"

"Hey mum. What's up?" I ask him indifferently.

"You have to come home now. You're grandma's here."

Damn. Grandma's here. I can honestly say I have no respect for her what so ever, since I found out what she did to Auntie Alice.

"Sure, ok," I mumble, not trying to hide my disappointment.

"Now, come on, be nice."

"Only if she's nice to me," I bargain.

"Fine. Just, you know, pretend you're happy to see her. She did fly all the way over from the U.S. remember."

Mum still has her American accent, as does Dad. However, as I'm around Aussie kids 6 hours a day, I've picked up the generic Aussie accent.

"Fine. I'll be there in 10." I hang up.

"Was that your mum?" Kirsty asks from the change room.

"Yeah, I have to go. My _lovely_ grandma's here," I say sarcastically. Kirsty laughs.

"Alright babe, I'll see you at school tomorrow. And I'm _so_ buying this dress!"

I giggle as I leave the store, waving to the sales assistant.

I get on the tram, and sit next to an elderly lady. She smiles at me as I sit down.

"I like your uniform," she says to me.

"Really?" I ask. I hated it.

"Yes, it's a very pretty colour. Much better than the bland blue or green that all the other schools wear." She chuckles. I smile.

I get off at my stop, and walk the short distance to our house. It's hard to miss. Out of all the houses in Toorak, it's the biggest. And that's saying something. According to Auntie Alice the house we used to live in, in America, was bigger. I stared at her is disbelief for two minutes straight. She just laughed.

I open the door in the main hallway, and see Dad standing the door of the lounge room. He did not look happy. I'm sure his expression was reflected in my face.

Dad made no denial that he hated Grandma. He told me so. He told me about what she had done to Mum and how he hated her for it. His only goal was to never hurt Mum, and therefore hated anything that had. And after 15 years he still feels that way about Mum.

"Hey Dad."

"Hey sweetheart. How was your day?" he asks, depressed.

"Pretty good. I verbally abused a teacher today," I say casually, as if it's a regular occurrence.

"Why?" he asks, not even angry. Yet.

"Because she's a shit teacher, that's why. She told my friend off for not understanding something in maths because she 'didn't listen', so I yelled at her. Hey, we were all thinking it," I blurted out. Dad just raised his eyebrows slightly and turned towards the lounge room. He had a look of distaste directed towards my grandmother. I sigh, heading towards the lounge room.

"Mom, it's not like I don't try to call you. Calls are very expensive these days. I besides, I haven't got the time…" I hear Mum say as I come into earshot.

"That's not an excuse! I feel unloved and forgotten over there in the U.S!" Grandma complains. Of course. She's whining about how Mum never calls her. Trust her to be so self centred.

"Oh, Liz, hi," Mum sighs.

"Elizabeth! How lovely to see you!" Grandma exclaims. She gets up and hugs me. I don't hug her back. She doesn't deserve one.

"It's _Liz_," I growl. I see Mum smile a little.

"How are you dear?" Grandma asks me, as if I hadn't said anything.

"Fine."

"What did you do today?" she asks, a little frustrated.

"School."

She frowns.

"Honestly Bella, have you not taught her to respect her elders? What kind of values have you raised her with?" Mum sighs and puts her head in her hands.

"It's a bit hard to teach her that when the only 'elders' in her life are you," she snaps.

Go Mum. I smile triumphantly. I hear Dad snigger from the hall. At this point I walk out and up the stairs.

Yep, my life is great.

**Review por favour? :D**


	2. Cheesecake and Whispers

**So, so sorry for the maaaaaasive wait guys. I've just been so busy :(**

**Hopefully this chapter will make up for it. Enjoy :D**

My room is my sanctuary. Where I go for peace and quiet. Now more than ever. Even through the walls of many rooms, I can hear my half drunker grandmother yelling at Mum. I don't know why she's here.

Well, I do, sort of. Mum is desperately trying to re-kindle things with her mother, she has since I was born. Grandma sort of barged in the hospital room when Mum was in labour. Before then they hadn't spoken in years. Supposedly Grandma stole some of Mum's money or something. Plus the whole thing with Mum and Auntie Alice when they were growing up.

I hear a knock on the door.

"Yeah?" I half yell.

"Liz, it's me," Dad half yells back.

"Come in." Dad comes in, quickly shutting the door behind his back. He sighs.

"She's yelling at your mom. God knows why. Probably some stupid reason," he says angrily.

"So you're hiding in here?" I joke, raising one eyebrow.

"Well, yeah…"

I giggle. The only thing my dad was afraid of was Grandma and Mum getting hurt. For anything else he was fearless.

"Maybe she should just stop trying… your mom I mean. Maybe we should just stop paying for her trips here," Dad rants.

"I wouldn't mind that at all."

"I know. So what did you do today, apart from verbally abuse your maths teacher?" he asks casually.

"Well, nothing much really. I learnt that about five guys like me at the moment…It's rather awkward…"

"Well, you take after your mother in that respect. I remember having to fend off quite a few guys when we first started dating, not that I ever told her that," he chuckles. Then I see that thing in his eyes whenever he talks about Mum. It gives me hope that two people can love each other just as much after fifteen years as the do when they got married. Mum and Dad were made for each other.

As far as I can tell, they met at work. Mum told me Dad started working for her (she was the boss), and she was in love with him, but Dad was already taken. Then Dad and the other girl broke up, and they started hanging out more often. Then, at Mum's birthday party, Dad told Mum that he loved her and always had, and that he broke up with the other girl because of her. But the other girl was giving them grief, and they even travelled to get away from her, but she followed them. Then Mum got pregnant with me. It was around about then that Mum's career started to fall apart, and she quit. Then she had me, and that was when Grandma made her grand entrance. Then Dad asked Mum to marry him, and they got married in the Botanical Gardens. Mum told me, as a sidenote, that she made up and she's now friends with the other girl, and they hang out whenever she's in Melbourne. I found that quite hard to believe, but she assures me it's true.

Quite a love story if you ask me. Something that should written down, as a romance novel or something. That kind of stuff can't possibly happen in real life. But it did.

I log on to Facebook, and see that out of my 600 friends, only 120 of them are online. That's weird. Oh well, none of the people online I actually want to talk to anyway. Dad's sitting on my bed, looking like he's about to lie there. I probably wouldn't have minded.

I noticed I have a post on my wall. It's from Alison, the girl who laughed at me in Music. It said: "**All ur fotos r so skanky, god put on sum cloths**"

I read it with difficulty. I hate people that write like that. People who don't know the meaning of the word 'spelling' or 'grammar'. It's my pet peeve. Along with people who walk slow in the hallway.

I respond quickly.

"**Well, I'm sorry that I happen to look good in skanky shorts…. Oh wait, they're not skanky. If you weren't fat, I'm sure you'd wear shorts too. But you are. So shouldn't it be the other way round? Me, making fun of you for being chubby, rather that you attempting to make fun of me for being gloriously skinny? And gathering by your spelling and grammar, or lack thereof, I should say, you're not only not skinny, but stupid as well. **

**Don't try to be cool, because you're not."**

I hesitate, hovering my mouse over the 'comment' button, wondering if that's a bit too harsh. Because she's not _that_ fat. But, she did start it, she was expecting retaliation. So I click 'comment'. As soon as I do I feel a little guilty, knowing that when she reads it she's going to feel awful. But to an extent, she deserves it. She wrote that on my wall in the first place, she needs to be put in her place.

Esme comments two minutes after I do.

"**Owned."**

I laugh at that, and like the comment. I noticed she has liked mine. I get a lot of likes on my comment, and numerous comments about how's she an idiot. This makes me feel better about commenting.

Dad is still sitting on my bed, watching me quietly. Eventually though, he pulls out his phone and starts playing Angry Birds. We're both obsessed with it. Mum thinks it's silly.

All is quiet downstairs, which is good, because we were both sick of the noise.

"I guess it's safe now," I say to Dad, not turning my head.

"Mmmm. I'll go down once I get 3 stars on this level," he mumbles, immersed in the game. I grin. I hear an almost silent 'yessss' and he gets up. He leaves my door open, and comes back in, telling me that dinner is ready.

I log out, and go down stairs. I don't hear Grandma, so I relax. I smell yummy things from the kitchen, and quicken my pace. When I get there, I see Mum's vegetarian lasagne being plated up. My favourite meal. I sit down at the dinner table, smiling as I inhale the delicious smell of tomato and oregano.

"This is to make up for today," she tells us with a smile.

"You mean to make up for _her_," Dad mumbles. Mum pokes out her tongue at him. They're 36 and 37 respectively, and they still act like children. Sometimes I think I'm more mature than they are. But that's what makes them such great parents I guess.

The next 15 minutes are pretty much silent, apart from the scraping of plates and chewing. You know it's good food when you're too busy eating to talk.

"So where exactly did Grandma go?" I ask casually when I finished my second helping (and people say I don't eat). Dad looks at her expectantly, wanting to know the same thing.

"Well, I told her that until she behaves like a mother and grandmother, she can't stay here. I booked her a hotel and sent her on her way. She'll back tomorrow. I'll make sure she comes when you're at school though," she says to me. "And when you're at work," she then says to Dad. We both breathe a sigh of relief. Mum laughs. "You too are too much alike sometimes," she giggles.

Mum continued to feed us, bringing out vegetarian cheesecake (no gelatine), which I scoffed down in about two minutes. And then had another piece. Then ice cream.

I excuse myself from the table and head back up to my room. Feeling pretty full, I linger on the stairs. I should have had just the one piece of cake…

"So what was she saying to you?" I hear Dad say from the kitchen. He's talking to Mum. She sighs loudly in frustration.

"She thinks that we should tell her," she answers, rather sarcastically. Tell who?

"But we talked about this with her. Many times. She doesn't understand why we've neglected to tell Liz," Dad reasons. What? Tell me what? I press my ear up against the wall so I can hear better.

"My mother never listens, you know that."

"Ha! You bet I do," Dad snorts. "What did you say to her?"

"The same thing I say every time. We don't want her to know. My past is too corrupt for a young mind to handle. And we don't want her dealing with the press we she goes around telling people about her Mom. Naturally she came back with 'but she deserves to know'. You know, the usual bullshit," Mum says in a mocking tone.

What's this about Mum's past? What did she do? The press? What would I tell everyone? I run up the stairs, ignoring my protesting stomach.

I had to figure this out. What did she mean? What had Mum done to deserve media attention in the past? Why would I be dealing with the press when I go around telling everyone who my Mum is? It didn't make any sense.

Maybe she killed someone. No… she wouldn't do that… or maybe she was framed. And everybody _thinks_ she did it. Like magazines and stuff. Or maybe she was a pornstar. One that got into trouble or something.

My mind races as each option I come up with crumbles. Because I know my Mum, and she wouldn't have done anything bad, I know it. It just doesn't make sense…

**I certainly hope it was worth the wait. And if not, sorry :(**

**Anyhoo, I'll try to update a lot more often :P**

**xx**


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